if not forgotten his generosity. He winked at Tristan amiably over the rim of the goblet. "This is seeing life, friend Tristan," he murmured, contentedly, stretching his thin legs in delicious ease. But Tristan was in no holiday humour.
"Let's hope it mayn't be seeing death, friend Louis" he snorted. "There are a couple of rogues in that covey who would spit you or split you or slit you for the price of a drink."
Louis laughed affably. "And no such cheap bargain," he commented, "seeing what wine costs here. But this is an interesting business."
Tristan would concede nothing to the king's good-humour. "Where's the interest?" he asked. "A few bullies, bawds and bonarobas boozing together. You can keep the same company at court—only a shade cleaner—and not be out of pocket for the privilege either."
The king's mouth puckered in appreciation of some memory. He leaned forward and touched Tristan's sleeve.
"Gossip Tristan, there is at my court a scholar who told me an Eastern tale."
"Pray God it be a gay one such as your majesty loves."
"Hush, man; no 'Majesty' here. 'Tis of an
